Sherlock Dead Bodies Everywhere
by Forsaken Wolf C.A
Summary: The beginning of John and Sherlock's relationship


**Sherlock: Dead Bodies Everywhere**

Does this darkness have a name?

This cruelty...this hatred,

how did it find us.

Did it steal into our lives or did we seek it out and embrace it?.

What happened to us?

That we now send our children into the world

like we send young men to war,

hoping for their safe return,

but knowing that some will be lost along the way.

When did we lose our way?

Consumed by the shadows.

Swallowed whole by the darkness.

Does this darkness have a name?

It is your name or is it mine?

John ~ Mycroft

Moriarty once told me that I was one the side of the angles and I simply replied I maybe on the side of the angels but don't think for one second that I am one. I am a fallen angels rejected by the light and embraced by the darkness. I am a fallen angel in disguise John~Moriarty

**Chapter 1: Do or Die**

I raced through the building as if my life depended on it as my heart beat pounced in my chest I skidded to a stop in front of a window. The picture through filled me with dread as a surge of panic rose inside of me. Sherlock was studying two small jars with pills. One was filled with a fast acting lethal poison and the other filled will pure cocaine but lethal in their one right as the fat cabbie watched in fascination. I realised that the cabbie must be the killer who else would it be? He fit the description. I closed my eyes briefly as Sherlock looked at the pills very carefully. I wished desperately that he could run into the other building in time to save the detective but their was no time. I watched as Sherlock picks up a pill bottle and opens it and holds it to the light as the killer grins and taunts his friend into taking it.

I scream "Sherlock!" at the top of my lungs but Sherlock doesn't hear him as he moves closing into taking the pill.

I growled out loud and muttered "Idiot how can you be so easily convinced to take your own life". He then reaches into his coat and pulls out his hand gun. I checked for bullets quickly, although I already knew it was loaded.

I look it up going into soldier mode I know if I do not do this Sherlock will die it is do or die I was again going to lose another part of myself and kill another but unlike usually this wasn't for duty or profit but for his friend and flatmate.

I watched silently as Sherlock was about to take the pill I sneered at the cabbie for placing me in this situation. My blood is pounding in my ears as adrenaline rushes through my body.

I check my aim and without any hesitation or remorse I pull the trigger.

I watch will relief as the cabbie collapses to the ground dead and Sherlock looks his direction by he can't see me as I already moved so I couldn't be traced back to the crime scene.

Funny enough, the moral implications of what I had just done never troubled me. Murder. I had killed men who had deserved it for far less before, I watched good friends and good men die.

I never thought I would get over it, the war, the death and the murder. This gave me no such trouble.

What troubled me was I was willing to shoot and kill a man for a man my flatmate I just met only a couple of days ago.

I shook my head I was just as crazy as Sherlock was, and I was just better at hiding it.

Once I was out of the building the cool night breeze it me which was very welcomed I watched over to Sherlock who was sitting in an ambulance with a blanket talking with Lestrade. He stopped for a moment and I saw his lips utter my name and Lestrade looked over at me and then back to Sherlock who was trying to get rid of Lestrade but pretending he was in shock which worked as he walked towards me.

We made our way to a street corner were Sherlock haled a cab as the car came to the cur with a screeched stop.

I inquired nervously "Are you sure we should take a cab?. You were also just convinced to kill yourself by a serial killer cabbie".

Sherlock replied to me in a calm tone almost kind instead of his usually boredom and aggravated tone as he slid himself into the cab and I reluctantly followed sitting opposite to him "The likelihood that this cabbie is also a murderer is very slim, John and as I told you. I had the right pill I wasn't about to kill myself".

The cabbie asked "Where are you boys headed?".

Sherlock announced "221 Baker Street" as the cab pulled away from the crime scene only a street away.

I suddenly sighed as I felt the adrenaline leave my body making me tired and drained of energy I noticed Sherlock jump slightly I apologised "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I'm just-".

Sherlock interrupted and stated simply not making eye contact with John as he was deep thought probably organising his mind palace of the information he gather tonight.

"Just feeling the effects of the adrenaline leaving your system". I nodded in agreement and sighed again as I also processed the night's events "Yeah..." I replied to him.

Sherlock jerked his head up in my direction making intense eye contact that in usual circumstances I would have been uncomfortable but I wasn't bothered by it this time as I looked back at Sherlock as he spoke his voice was now serious and deep "John?".

I raised my eyebrow in question "Yes Sherlock?".

He locked my glaze not breaking contact he paused and closed his eyes for a brief second before he started "It was, well, it was very kind of you and thank you for what you did for me tonight". He spurted abruptly as he continued not giving me time to wave him off "I need you to know if a situation arose that I would do the same for you".

I frowned that was not what I wanted to hear Sherlock wasn't a killer like I am he is still an innocent and that if he were to kill someone like I did even with good intentions. I knew Sherlock would change and no longer be the same person he knew before I had to put a stop to this. "Sherlock...Believe me I am flattered at the gesture but if I am ever in that situation then I don't wish for you to do the same even if your intentions are honourable. I can't allow you to become like me I was bred and trained for these situations while you weren't. It is easy to kill but it becomes additive and the more you do it the more you want to again and you lose who you once were and become someone you never wanted to be.

I am a soldier and a doctor but I am also a healer and killer which means I save and take peoples lives. I must live with those I have kill everyday and you know what the funny thing is I don't care. I have no remorse or guilt in my actions the same goes for tonight I do not regret what I did and I would do it again.

If we are in that situation you will either call your brother and let his people take care of the matter or Lestrade and if that means my death then so be it I'd rather die knowing you do not become like me then living to watch you become what I never wanted you to become".

Sherlock looked at me with understanding and nodded "John, I...I...well".

I frowned it was unlike Sherlock to trip over his words he is very articulate. Than I thought maybe he was in shock it was highly possible after all he nearly died and found out his best friend murderer a man for him. I said going into my doctor mode "You are tripping over your words. You may be suffering from shock. Are you alright Sherlock? Let me check your pulse and don't gave me that look". I said firmly as Sherlock rolled his eyes at me but complied with my orders.

Sherlock was having trouble with admitting defeat. It was never easily to admit that he got things wrong sometimes. "John, I assure you I am not in shock, I am fine in that respect. What I am trying to tell you is that-".

I smirked as I realised what he was trying to hint at "You really don't know which pill was which, do you?".

Sherlock was talking so fast that after he finished he slumped forward into his seat.

"That isn't the point here, John he said dismissively. You...that is there is a high chance that you just saved my life tonight. Not many people especially for me would do that so I am trying to express my gratitude, John. In one shot you save my life. You are amazing John you would so willingly kill another man for someone you barely know and who is your flatmate and best friend and I have no doubt you wouldn't hesitate to do it again it called for such action".

I know was the once in shock. I never excepted my new friend to let his emotions flow like this.

I was speechless and I stared at the man with perfect cheekbones in awe and adoration.

I decided to make a confession I take a breath and spoke as I looked towards Sherlock as he looked into my eyes into my very soul.

"You did the same for me already and you are right I would do it again in a heart beat as I said it is addictive like you and your cigarettes or how you deduce things and people. I only kill when it is required of me but if it wasn't for meeting you I would either became a criminal or dead.

What you gave me was a second chance I was a weapon in the army and once I had used my purpose I was thrown away like a broken toy. When you have done for me is impossible to reciprocate. Sherlock you saved my life too and I can't tell you how that feels" I said looked into the man's piercing eyes.

Sherlock felt a surge of emotion well up in him that he didn't allow on his face he wasn't sure how to respond to his feelings he was currently experiencing they were fairly new and stronger than ever before. He had only previously felt this in a much lower intensity starting the moment he had been introduced to Doctor Watson.

He also deduce that his guardian angels was also currently expressing the same emotions I and he both blushed slightly and as the cab suddenly pulled up outside their flat.

I gave a slight awkward cough as Sherlock paid the cabbie and opened the cab door and stepped out as I followed not far behind as we walked up and into our flat.

**Chapter 2: Echoes of the past**

I closed my eyes that night and let the whole world pass me by I sighed the nightmares were getting worse. Tonight I knew it would be a bad one I could feel it building as I started to drift off to sleep.

I could hear the guns firing, the explosions booming inside of my head. I tossed and turned in my sleep trying to escape for the echoes of the past by it was not use I could never escape them.

My skin was dampened with sweat I suddenly sat straight up in bed, throwing the blankets off me I realised that Mycroft might have been a little mistaken perhaps the war haunted me a just a tad.

I thought as my mind raced before I heard creaking and footsteps. I had woken Sherlock up. God, I prayed I didn't scream this time...that would have been embarrassing.

Maybe he thinks I am in trouble? Maybe he thinks I hurt myself? Maybe he'll think I'm weak for having silly nightmares about the past? I thought I decided to get back into bed and pretend to sleep to avoid all confrontation.

I picked up the blanket off the floor and silently lay back down, closing my eyes gently trying as best as I could to slow my breathing down. I had only just managed to reach a convincing slumber rate of breaths when Sherlock opened the door. Without knocking, of course.

Sherlock looked worried and his voice was soft with a hint of concern "John..are you awake?". It was hard not to answer to Sherlock, especially not when he had taken the effort to sound concerned, which took a lot of effort from Sherlock. I couldn't I looked at my alarm clock it was 4 o'clock in the morning. Whatever concerns Sherlock had could be discussed later over breakfast.

Sherlock came further into the room, and I could pinpoint his location by gauging how many footsteps. I reckoned he was close enough to the side of my bed to see my face. Which was pale and covered in light sweat like if I had a fever.

He was getting closer moving almost silently cat like until he was right next to me and I could feel his presence.

He spoke again more concerned slipped into his voice "John...are you alright?".

There was a long pause as I tried to remain calm and still while Sherlock was obviously surveying the situation. He had clearly fallen for my act which surprised me to no end I knew my acting skills were good but not good enough to fool the great Sherlock Holmes.

He bent down to sit on the bed. I moved a bit, almost overacting his stirring. Whilst I cursed him for trying too hard, I felt Sherlock's hand touch my brow and move across down my face and across behind my ear, I focused completely on remaining neutral but my heart sped up a bit, but not too much to cause suspicion.

The hand moved to my neck, where it lay for a while. I feared that Sherlock was checking for a stronger pulse, but the touch wasn't clinical at all, it was soothing.

Moving back up to my forehead, the fingers began to run through my hair, stroking it gently.

He spoke again almost in a whisper that was comforting and warm I felt loved "Oh John, you're a brave soldier. I'd be worried if it hadn't affected you at all, you'd be a machine...and we couldn't have that, not both of us. At least one of us has to remain so what as human as possible".

I could feel my heart flutter as Sherlock's breath started to catch in his throat suddenly Sherlock leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead.

It was warm, and perfect. I could have sworn my heart had stopped beating for that moment before steadily beating faster.

Sherlock suddenly moved off my bed and pulled my sheets around my body tucking me in before stroking my hair again and headed for the door before he closed the door gently he whispered "I ...love you John sweet dreams doctor".

I opened my eyes and stared into the darkness, pulling the sheets up close to my neck I turned and whist smiling wider than I ever though possible I closed my eyes and whispered "I love you too Sherlock". I returned to sleep my thoughts were no longer on the war, of the past, but of the future my second chance of life.

**Chapter 3: Fighting Instinct **

It was about a three month after I had moved into Baker Street with Sherlock and I had just begun to get used to this new lifestyle . The sleepless nights chasing after the criminals and making sure that Sherlock didn't get himself killed in the process. The phone calls and texts from Lestrade at random times during the day. The body parts and other various experiments that were more often then poisonous and were laying around, next to food and plates and other things that didn't generally mix with the stuff Sherlock was interested in.

Yes I had gotten used to this new life and I wanted more of it.

It was late even by Sherlock's standards and I was tried. Well exhausted more like it. I have been up now for a good thirty five hours since I last slept or even ate and Sherlock just continued like a train. Not once had Sherlock stopped for a breath during the whole serial killer case and I hadn't felt so ready for sleep since Afghanistan.

It started like always a call from Lestrade. Apparently there was a serial killer on the loose that was killing the elderly and the dying.

The police at New Scotland Yard nicknamed him The Angel of Death so far their had been six deaths.

All had been suffocated in their sleep and holding a sun flower in their lifeless hands.

This was the first time that Sherlock had been permitted to enter the crime scene and I had to admit I it was exciting.

Sherlock had come to find me not two minutes later with a lead and that was when the chase had begun.

Their serial killer had been careless and dropped a business card with their name and address we immediately gone without back up to find the man about to commit around murder on a little old lady.

The man had nearly escaped but the pursuit had consisted of a mad scramble up walls and flying leaps across alley ways between buildings. In the end while Sherlock chased him and took a short cut and trapped him in a corner and knocked him unconscious. I looked up to see an impressed Sherlock as he took me the hand cuffs and texted Lestrade to come and collect their serial killer.

Once we got home I got myself into a comfortable position I could already feel my eyelids become heavy drooping and the sounds of Lestrade and Sherlock talking with Mycroft were drowned out as I needed the sleep.

Gunshots, all around me, there were people shooting, scrambling and dying calling me for orders and medical assistance.

There were explosions echoing in my ears and the shouts calling me rang out from all directions as I watched helplessly as my men were killed around me.

A soldier standing next to me fell to his knees a boy not much older than himself clutching his chest, mouth open in a scream that I couldn't hear over everyone else's. I swiftly followed, my hands opening my medical bag and pulling bandages as I tried to stem the blood pouring out of the young soldier's side. The man's face was already deadly pale and I knew deep inside that he wasn't going to survive.

The bullet probably punctured several vital organs and I could do nothing but end his life as quickly as possible the young man smiled and croaked "Thank you for trying sir...do it please" his pain filled eyes pleaded as he coughed up blood which poured from his mouth.

Pulling out my gun, I made sure it was loaded before firing a shot in the young man's head. The young man was killed instantly. I looked away for a moment before whispering an apology to the man I had pretty much murdered.

I wanted to kill the man that was responsible and I aimed it at the terrorist and felt confident with my aim.

I pulled the trigger...

I suddenly bolted upright, breathing irregular and my vision was swimming. I was vaguely aware of people surrounding me and I noticed a smoking gun in my hand but the one thing that pulled me back to reality was the bullet hole in the wall...

A mere two inches above Philip Anderson's head

Lestrade and Mycroft watched as John was suffering from one of his nightmares, I guessed by the sounds of it, a bad one.

I didn't know how to help my flatmate. I had witnessed one of John's nightmares first hand but the former army doctor had always woken up before he had done anything.

Mycroft was about to place a hand on John's shoulder I knew that was a bad idea "Mycroft don't remember he is a soldier and he'll think you are the enemy and hurt you not that I mind by I am sure John would. I suggest you leave him to wake himself on his own".

Mycroft pulled his hand away thinking how stupid he was to touch a clearly distressed soldier he nodded and stepped away.

I wasn't sure what to do so I made a cup of tea to calm my nerves and then entered the living room, making straight for my violin. Picking it up and resting it comfortably between my neck and shoulder, I raised the bow and was about to start in a piece written by Beethoven when a flicker of movement caught my attention. I closed my eyes briefly and pleaded with the gods that John was going for what he knew was under his pillow.

I watched as John's right hand was shifting between the cushions of the soft and I could see his muscles clenched as the doctor's hand closed around the gun. I suddenly realized that perhaps leaving John's gun there after I used it to shot a smiley face in the wall was a bad idea.

I dropped my violin ever so slightly. John had lifted the gun until the handle was clearly visible, his fingers on the trigger and I was surprised that none of the police officers hadn't seen it yet although my brother had just spotted it.

"Lestrade!" Without thinking, I dropped my precious instrument and launched myself at him, shoving him against the wall as the single gunshot echoed through the room.

The three of us noticed that Anderson had walked directly behind Lestrade as John had pulled the trigger and immediately dismissed the data. It wasn't important.

The fact that his John was finally awake and staring around in horror was. Without thinking I had put myself in the line of fire and I stared softly at the one person that could actually live with me.

"John". I looked at those haunted eyes staring back at me with such despair.

Lestrade wasn't sure what was happening. He had watched John fall asleep, Sherlock had left, as John had begun whimpering, shouting and writhed on the couch, Sherlock had told his brother who was about to wake John but to leave him and left the room then came back with his violin and was about to play.

When suddenly Sherlock yelled his name and through himself at him and pinned him to the wall as John had fired a gun shot with a gun no one knew existed, Sherlock had tackled him out of the way and now the two of them were staring at each other.

I pitied and felt sympathetic for John as I saw such despair and self loathing fill his eyes.

Anderson was clearly shaken at almost having died and I sent him outside with Mrs Hudson who just came in to the room in a panic and concern for her two tenets.

I ran a hand through my greying hair and decided to check on the man who looked obviously traumatized.

Sherlock rushed over as he told Mycroft to go away and I pulled a chair up so that I could sit next to John as Sherlock knelt beside him as Mycroft walked into the kitchen and made tea.

The two flatmates were still staring at each other I noticed, gazes locked silent messages seemed to be playing between them. John broke eye contact first by suddenly beginning to shiver and curl up so that little of him was exposed and visible.

"Cold" I whispered so softly that Lestrade had nearly missed it by Sherlock just nodded at what he had been told and place a gentle hand on John's knee.

"I'm sure it is, John. London will always be wet and dreary compared to the Middle East". Lestrade started a little obvious compassion that Sherlock was showing and had never seen before.

He was going to question the man when Sherlock immediately sprang to action, walking calmly out the door and returning not a few moments later carrying a quilt. Lestrade could see a little flame start in my eyes at Sherlock's act and it remained there, never wavering as Sherlock draped it over my trembling body and placed his violin in his hand and started to play.

It felt what like eons. The low and the high notes blending in perfectly as Sherlock pranced around the room playing the violin while I noticed his elder brother went to deal with Anderson and Mrs Hudson.

I noticed that Lestrade was nodding off but I bet him to it and was fast asleep before I know it.

Sherlock smacked Lestrade awake who sat up straight, finally thinking it was a good time to question the other man.

When Anderson came into the flat like a raging bull "Lestrade I would that freak arrested!. He nearly killed me and I don't care about your brother's threatens me with! That freak is more insane than you are and is a threat to others and should be locked up!".

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and grabbed Anderson by the collar and pinned him to the wall "He suffers from PTSD Anderson he has sacrificed and suffered for his country".

Lestrade looked at John who was still sleeping peacefully Mycroft nodded "As I as trying to tell you which is very difficult with you pea sized brain that Dr. Watson was a doctor and an army captain in Afghanistan and on to his forth tour of the area when he was invalidated home about six months ago".

Lestrade looked at John surprised. John seemed like an ordinary guy with no distinguishable features about him that would suggest time in the forces.

Sherlock smirked "He make not look much like a soldier but you should see him in action when he is in soldier mode. He was in the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers".

Lestrade looked back at John with respect "Amazing" he breathed

Anderson snorted "So what he was a soldier and? That doesn't change the fact he nearly blew my head off. Trouble follows you two everywhere! I wonder about the doctor's sanity if he is able to live around a freak like you!".

Lestrade had seen what the two meant to each other and Mycroft was about to defend his younger brother and his flatmate and before Lestrade could do anything, Sherlock had given Anderson a swift right hook that had caught the man just under his left eye and on the side of his nose. Lestrade just watched as the consulting detective then released the man.

Suddenly John awoke to see Anderson getting ready to strike Sherlock and took the gun and pointed it at Anderson again.

My eyes were cold and emotionless as I saw Anderson about to attack Sherlock from behind I aimed the gun at his head and I moved Sherlock aside and hissed.

"You dare you filthy coward attack someone from behind!. Sherlock is under my protect".

He grabbed Anderson by the throat and placed enough pressure to make it difficult to breathe I wasn't in my kind doctor mode but my protective soldier mode and he watched with pride as Anderson looked at me with fear in his eyes as he struggled to breathe.

Anderson tried to attack but I easily pinned his arms to his back and twisted his arm but not enough to break it without a little one pressure.

Anderson cried out in pain as I put pressure on his pressure point.

I smiled darkly his eyes looked dangerous like a predators "Now Anderson I want you to apologise to Sherlock and the others for your childish behaviour. You are very lucky that I wasn't awake when I pulled the trigger or you would be dead it was an accident.

Inspector Detective Lestrade was the open in more danger than you he should be the one yelling insults at me not you yet he is a bigger man then you will ever be and a stronger one.

Not some whiny coward like you Anderson. Trust me if I wanted to kill you. You'd be dead by now and their wouldn't be any witnesses or evidence or even your body to tie it to me so I would be very careful Anderson because I am not a person to be messed with". He said calmly with seriousness in his eyes.

Anderson whimpered "I-I'm sorry Sherlock for being disrespectful to you and John and I apologise to everyone".

I grinned sadistically "For what Anderson?".

Anderson paled and trembled as shivers run down his spine "I apologise for being an over dramatic coward and for being childish and not listening to Mr. Holmes when he was trying to tell me why you reacted that way".

I looked up to Sherlock who's face matched mine "Sherlock do you accept Anderson's apology or would you like me to punish him more?".

Mycroft gave his brother a look and Sherlock pouted "Fine..Mycroft you never let me have any fun. John I accept this piece idiotic coward's apology".

I nodded satisfied and released Anderson who composed himself "Lestrade are you going to let him get away with that. He assaulted a police officer and he pointed at Sherlock also assaulted me and that lunatic threatened to kill me!". He protested Lestrade shook his head I smirked "Anderson I don't make threats I make promises now leave our flat and get out of my sight or I shall report you for having a relationship with Sally Donovan by the way your wife is as you suspected having an affair with your next door neighbour I would return home and you might catch them in the act". He said smugly Anderson paled and quickly sneered then rushed out of the flat as fast as his legs could carry him.

Sherlock laughed at me "I see your also skilled at making deductions why hide your intelligence".

I shrugged and answered "Honestly it is better to have the enemy underestimate you it is an advantage we have much in common but you show of your intelligence while I keep mine hidden you'll I see reason to use it".

Sherlock looked impressed Mycroft had decided to take Lestrade home and it left me leave with Sherlock to discuss are similarities.


End file.
